Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Rush

"I don't know," she teased, slipping her arm into his. "After I'm done kicking your teeth in you might be happy to see the last of me. Most people don't stick around long after that."

She didn't agree to doing this again. That would be too.... something.

Absolutely very something.

*****


They'd encountered Kal, her herglic land lord, on their way up, and she'd warned him not to get alarmed if he heard banging from upstairs. His huge dark eyes had regarded them both, a frown on his face before he just shook his head.

"Don't damage my floors," was all he said before turning back to his work.

But he did shoot a long, heavy look at [member="Walker Ducarte"] when Del was heading up the stairs. A warning? A promise? Whatever it was, it didn't take a Jedi to figure out that the hulking alien was protective of the smaller human woman- and that he wasn't entirely sure about Walk.

They changed into clothes that were less salt encrusted and moved all of the furniture in her living room into the kitchenette. It wasn't a large room, but big enough, and the carpet in the center had enough give to not hurt *too* much if they slammed each other around a bit. She stretched for a moment, an almost feral quality to her smile as she glanced across the room at him.

"I can go easy on you, if you want," she said with a grin, stepping up to the edge of the carpet.
 
All that Kal got was a nod and then a smirk once Walk followed Del up the stairs.

Got him a good view too.

The smirk only got larger, before disappearing once they were inside again. Mostly because he started thinking about the actual fighting - Ducarte wasn't scared, concerned or anything, but he analyzing. He might have been a crap Mando, his ma might have beaten the ever living crap out of him almost daily, but that didn't mean that he was a completely useless fighter.

Just one that would rather run away.

Kept you alive, that.

"What would be the point of that?" Walk snickered before dropping lower down the knees in a fighting position. Arms already raised, palms facing each other, loose, waiting for an attack. "Here to learn, ain't I?"

From there the man got serious.

Smirk disappeared, glint in the eye got sharper, now it was only the fight that mattered.

At least one thing had been drilled in his head.
 
She watched his posture and expression change and only the barest arch of an eyebrow betrayed that it was unexpected. He'd had training, which she could see clearly only now, and that surprised her. It was also, she realized immediately, incredibly condescending, and she set it aside promptly. Sort of.

But the surprise she couldn't set aside was the familiarity of the stance. Sure, there were only so many ways to wait for a hit in a sparring session, but-

He'd been trained by a Mandalorian.

It was the stance of child's training though. Someone who hadn't really evolved past a certain point, growing into the physical creativity that was just a small reach from that point. Just as she had worked hard to erase her accent, Delilah had worked equally hard to evolve past those basics, making it difficult to see the basis of her training without a very deep familiarity with the Mandalorian style of fighting.

She guess that he'd been trained as a child, but primarily in the rote applications. X attack equals a Y defense-

She'd find out in a moment that she was wrong.

While he'd said not to take it easy on him, she had. She wasn't toying, or trying to treat him like a child, but she did pull her punch, not going full speed because she really didn't want to break his nose- she kind of liked that nose after all.

So when she found herself on the floor, arm pinned behind her and face in the carpet a moment later, it was a bit of a wake up call. She tapped out, rolling away from him and eyeing him with a bit more respect, a smile playing over her lips.

"Well. I won't make that mistake again," she grunted as she stood up.

"Mistake? Oh, I thought you were showing me how to roll with the punches."

"Mmm, very generous of you to say so."

It was the last one he got on her.

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
[member="Delilah Keyes"]

Time moved funny when you were having... well, Walk wouldn't call it fun, but there was a distinct sense of accomplishment, exhaustion, exertion and investment at the end of the tail-gate. The last bout they had both dropped to the ground - he almost had her, but once again Keyes proved herself too fast for him.

Last minute she reversed the grip and got him eating the carpet again.

On his back now, breathing deeply and chuckling just a little bit Walk tried to shrug. Force of habit... it huuuurt. "Ooph, want to say I will be feeling it tomorrow.... but I am feeling it already."

Soft groan made Walk realize he wasn't quite ready yet to stand up.

"Didn't realize I was fighting a Mandalorian." The words were quiet, not accusatory, but not exactly. Amused? It was difficult to gauge Walk's feelings because he himself wasn't yet sure how to feel about it. For him the Mandalorians were a thing of the past, he had left the behind and they could go kark themselves. But. What were the real chances that he got involved with a Mandalorian out of anyone in this entire situation?

If it wasn't for the fact that his mother was dead and literally nobody cared about him?

Walk might have grown paranoid about it all.
 
She was farther out of shape than she realized, but he *had* given her a run for her money, so she simply promised herself to start exercising again by the time they both flopped, face up, onto the carpet. She was chuckling to herself, arms akimbo and just shaking her head until he said the last part.

There, she stilled, falling silent. They stayed there like that for a minute, the silence uncomfortable for the first time. And then with a grunt she rolled over, away from him and stood up.

"Gonna grab a shower," she said over her shoulder, words directed toward him in a vague sort of way but not looking *at* him.

She didn't give him a chance to respond, or any hint of an invitation this time. She was down the hallway with the door to the 'fresher closing behind her with a soft click.

Not just trained by a mandalorian, she cursed herself silently as she undressed and turned on the water, all a little more forcefully than needed. It took one to know one, after all, and she'd thought she'd done a good enough job at changing.... well.... everything.... to not be seen for it. She'd worked so karking hard to erase any trace of that life.

She hadn't confirmed it for him. But she hadn't denied it either. Just closed off and walked away because she was not opening that for any reason.

"Well done," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes as the water coursed down her face. "Well karking done."

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
Walk rolled over and watched her retreat.

Because it was a retreat no matter which way you sliced it and that was all the confirmation that he needed. No assassination attempts or trying to beat the crap out of him though, so that was something Walker had going for him. Once the sound of the refresher rang through the hall he sighed.

Well done, mate, that was absolutely perfect.

Couldn't have done it better.

She would find him at the balcony, smoking a cigarette, wistfully looking past the obvious and towards the ocean farther away. "Makes me feel so small, ya know." Ducarte addressed without looking over his shoulder. "Used to the vastness of outer space, but put me near an ocean and I just blink."

Sentients had been exploring space for ten thousands of years and more, so much more.

But how was it that a single ocean could still inspire a mix of dread and curiosity?

"We don't need to talk about the thing. Ain't my business- I left 'em years ago and never looked back, sounds like you got something similar going on." Shrug, he looked at her with a wry smile. "I hope you aren't gonna try to beat my face in more?"
 
She stayed in the shower longer than reasonable. Anything, really, to avoid going back out there. But also, she figured to give him enough time to gather up his stuff and leave. It wasn't even specifically that she hoped he would, just that she assumed he would. There was literally no reason for him to stay, after all.

The fact that she was reading into his tone, finding disgust that hadn't actually been there when he'd said mandalorian, didn't really matter. Sometimes perception does not entirely mirror reality, and even when it does, a mirror turns a moment opposite itself and offers just the slightest offset to how it actually looks.

Once the shower was turned off, she stayed in the bathroom for awhile. Waiting, a small frown on her face. She didn't hear any moving around out there. She probably hadn't heard the click of the front door over the sound of the water, after all.

Well, that was for the best. Probably for both of them, she told herself firmly as she stepped out of the 'fresher and straight into her room. Now, she moved more firmly, dressing, hanging up the towel. Jaw set because why wouldn't it be?

Just a fun little fling that ended.

Whatever.

All of this came crumbling, however, when she stepped back into the living room and caught sight of him on the small balcony, leaning over the railing and pensively smoking. She stopped, very still for a moment before slowly approaching. Trying to figure out just what to say, in a strange turn of the unexpected.

So when he spoke first, she didn't have a response right away. She just stood behind him for a long moment, frowning at the back of his head and trying to find that disgust that she thought she'd heard before.

Only now, it wasn't there.

"Only if you ask me to," she said finally. It could have been delivered as a joke, with that smirk held out like a rapier. Slowly, she closed the distance. Not touching him, she leaned beside him, dark gaze casting out over the water.

"I'm not." She paused, frowning again. "I'm not good at talking about. That. I left. I went back.... when Mandalore...." When the planet had cracked and shaken. "You know. That's. Not me. And I think, that's not you. What I'm saying is.... I'm not sorry. That I ran into the wrong contact. Even knowing. This. And you knowing it too."

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
[member="Delilah Keyes"]

For a moment Walk didn't look, instead opting to listen with mild amusement.

The few days they had spend together had framed her as the smooth operator in his eyes. The quick and swift one, who knew exactly what to do when, who could meld into one role or the other without even thinking about it. But it was in this moment that the vulnerability came along knocking and took her out of balance.

Once the silence reigned again his hand found hers, squeezing just a little bit, before letting go- unless she tightened her grasp so he couldn't let go.

"I ain't sorry either, Del." Walk thought about it for a little while - the threats of death, having to constantly watch over his shoulder, both Nuna and Bantha chasing them... still seemed like a fair deal to him. Considering the smuggler managed to meet Delilah out of all of this.

"If anyone ever asks though, we are telling them we met in the library or something, deal?"

Soft chuckle, before shaking his head.

"For real, I am glad we met, circumstances aside... it's been great."
 
"No one would ever believe that. Sabaac. And I cheated you every step of the way."

It seemed as though the waters had stilled again. Not out on that violet ocean, but between them. The fact that they ran deep with hidden shoals would inevitably cause trouble again, but only if they stopped calling the fathoms beneath the hull-

Del blinked and mentally dropped the nautical metaphor before it got away from her.

Despite the conversation of the previous night, that they would plan once they were rested, they had made no progress today. At least, not on the Nuna/Bantha angle. But somehow, she was okay with that.

"I'm going to get us something to eat. You. Mister Ducarte-"

She breathed in slowly, letting it out in a long, low whoosh. Then paused.

"You are going to take a spin through that 'fresher," she smirked, watching him out of the corner of her eye, "If you want anywhere near that bed tonight."

[member="Walker Ducarte"]
 
[member="Delilah Keyes"]

Leaning against the balustrade Walk looked bemused to say the least.

"Ma'am, how dare you suggest I smell bad." He sniffed, before wrinkling his nose slightly. "I will have you know that this is the scent of the sea and nothing more."

His stomach rumbled a touch at the mention of fooood.

Which made Walker shrug, before pushing himself off the balustrade and upright his feet again. He eyed her up and down, enjoying the glance just for another moment. Intrigue in his eye it was very clear what the smuggler was currently thinking. Which was probably why the next few words were no surprise to anyone involved.

"Was gonna invite you with, buuuut." Stomach rumbled grumpily again. "Food sounds excellent right about now."

A light peck on her lips after leaning in and Walk already walked off.

"Can't wait to see what you magic up, darlin~"
 

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